Chasing Morning
by Shaeya Sedjet
Summary: I wanted to write a revenge fic in which Shilo returns after years and takes out the Largos one by one in horribly painful ways.  However, this is what I ended up with instead...Shilo stumbles upon Graverobber the night after the Opera.
1. Chapter 1 Now with proper punctuation!

**Title:** Chasing Morning - Chapter One (Now, with proper punctuation!)

**Author:** Robin Graves

**Rating:** T-MA

**Pairing:** Graverobber/Shilo

**Summary:** I'm too tired to write a decent summary. It deals with Shilo's withdrawal after years of forced chemical dependency and Grave's role in her recovery.

Author's Note: This is draft three of this chapter and I'm pretty sure I've botched it entirely. This isn't the story I intended to write it just...happened. Please be gentle. It's my first time. **It has come to my attention that-for reasons unbenknownst to me-my chapters did not contain important punctuation, such as...oh, I don't know...QUOTATION MARKS! Bloody hell! What is with this story and not being able to get it into the proper format? It's like something doesn't want it to be read. So, if you've already read this chapter, please read it again, as it might make more sense this go round :-)

Disclaimer: All Repo! characters and the Repo! world belong to TZ and DB and not me. No profit will be made from this. Please don't sue. I'm already a starving artist.

Shilo left the Genetic Opera that horrible, bloody night with no destination in mind. She wandered the backstreets and alleys of Sanitarium Island in a daze. She was blind and deaf to the nightmares of the seedy underbelly of the city until she bumped into a solid wall of…man. She looked up into the surprised blue eyes of none other than Graverobber. "Graverobber?"

Graverobber was finishing up his final transaction for the evening, when something small bounced off of him and onto the pavement below. He looked down, shocked at what he saw. "Kid? Is that you?" She was barely recognizable, crusted in blood from head to toe. She lifted her face to him, her dazed, black eyes blinking up at him in confusion.

He grabbed her elbow, pulling her to her feet. "How did you get here? Don't you know the Largos are probably looking all over Sanitarium Island for you?"

"Can I stay with you?" She looked up at him, her eyes pleading with him, frantic and over-bright with shock.

He scoffed, "And get caught with you? I'm already a wanted felon, darling. That would definitely be a death-sentence."

Her face crumpled and her shoulders began to shake with silent sobs. Her hands were twisted into the furry lapels of his coat, her head resting against his chest.

"Shit," he muttered. Addicts, he could deal with. Scalpel sluts, he could handle. A sobbing, recently orphaned little girl, he was at a total loss. He brought his arms up, wrapping them around her and patting her back awkwardly.

They stood there for several minutes, Shilo sobbing into his chest and Graverobber rubbing awkward circles on her back. He was beyond relieved when her sobs and hiccups began to subside.

"Do you have any other family to go to?" he asked as gently as he could under the circumstances. "I could take you."

She raised her head, meeting him full on with the force of those dark, wounded eyes. "There was only my f-father. And M-mag." Her breath caught in her throat and she moaned a pitiful little sound. "Now there is no one." She lowered her gaze and stared at her hands, covered in the blood of both her father and her godmother. It suddenly hit her how alone she was.

Graverobber was horrified. Great. What do I do with her? He couldn't just leave her there, covered in blood for any number of things to happen to her. Why not? You don't owe her anything. Not true. She had saved him from Amber, hadn't she? She had done him a solid. The least he could do was make sure she got home safely.

She stared at her hands, trembling and covered in blood and Graverobber knew this was undertaking he was completely unprepared for.

"Hey, kid, can you stand up?"

She turned those haunted eyes back up to him as though she didn't understand his question. In that moment, he panicked. What the fuck was he going to do with this slip of a woman-child? Of course he knew what had happened at the opera. But why hadn't the Largos just finished her off? What if she was broken beyond repair? What would he do with her then? He couldn't very well stick around and be her babysitter.

But there was something empowering about having those large, dark eyes turned up to him in supplication. He'd never been into little girls, but this particular girl had him feeling things that were better left buried. His world was dark and ugly, and this girl provided a refreshing ray of light to that stale, musty darkness. In that moment, in the dark of the alley, he knew that he would do anything in his power to make her safe.

He focused his blue gaze back on her and she was still just staring at him, her eyes glazed over in what he recognized as shock. He sighed, bending to gather her into his arms. The girl weighed nothing. She was all sharp angles and pale skin. He cradled her tiny form against his chest with one arm, slinging his bag of supplies over his shoulder with the other.

"I guess I'm crashing with you tonight," he muttered, cursing himself for being a total puss. He was going soft. Maybe he was getting too old for this shit. The Graverobber didn't give a shit about anyone else, least of all some sheltered, recently orphaned charity case. "All for a fuckin' pair of doe eyes," he muttered.

Shilo was vaguely aware of the zydrate dealer lifting her into his arms. Suddenly, her eyes felt too heavy, her brain too foggy. She let her head droop onto his shoulder, his large, furry collar providing a surprisingly comfortable pillow.

In the back of her mind, she knew she shouldn't trust him. He was a drug dealer whose best customer was Amber Sweet. He had almost got her executed by the GenCops. But hadn't he rescued her once as well? As she lay her head against his shoulder, she decided she would trust him. There was no one else and she had to trust someone. She closed her eyes, allowing all of the horror to drain away, if only for a moment.

He heard her sigh and she snuggled her head into the crook of his shoulder. Her hands were balled into fists and tucker under her chin, and to his surprise she had gone completely lax in him arms.

"Don't go pass out on me, kid. I don't know where you live."

Her large, doe-like eyes blink up at him, sleepily. "There's a tunnel leading to the house from my mother's tomb in the cemetery where I first met you. There's a key in my boot…" she trailed off, with a sleepy sigh. He ignored the shiver caused by her warm breath on his ear.

"I'm not even going to ask why there is a tunnel to your house in a tomb." Obviously, her father was a little more off his rocker than anyone had ever guessed.

Her only response was a sleepy mumble and to snuggle her face further into the crook of his neck and shoulder.

Graverobber shook his head, and turned in the direction of the cemetery where he'd first encountered the pale, fragile creature in his arms.

"You've got to be kidding me, kid," he whispered as he stared at the huge, winding staircase in the foyer of her home. He could understand why she wouldn't want to spend her first night without a family alone in this monster of a house.

He glanced down at the girl in question. She had exhausted herself with crying and was sleeping peacefully in his arms. It was so sweet it was giving him cavities.

"Hey, kid. Where am I taking you?"

She whined, burrowing further into his shoulder. It might have been cute if it weren't for two things: 1. He was Graverobber and 2. He was tired and irritated as hell that he had put himself in this position to begin with. He ground his teeth together. "Kid, I need you to wake your ass up and tell me where your room is. And you're going to want a shower before you even think about getting into bed. You definitely don't want to wake up in a bed covered in…well, you know."

She opened bleary eyes, rolling them up to meet his. "Third floor, end of the hall on the left hand side." She yawned and it was possibly the sweetest sound he'd ever heard, just barely a squeak. It was like the tiniest who down in Whoville or some shit. If he could have punched himself in the nuts, he might have. It would serve him right for thinking stupid shit like that.

He clomped up the stairs, muttering something about mansions with no elevators.

Shilo smiled sleepily at his grumpy grumblings. She was glad her subconscious had led her to him. She couldn't have trusted anyone else to take care of her.

"What the hell are you so friggin' happy about?" he griped.

"I found you," she said simply, that peaceful smile never slipping.

"Yeah, well, next time could you find someone else? My ass is grass if the Largos find out I'm helping you."

He cradled her with one arm so he could open the door labeled, "Shilo's Room," and asked her to point out the bathroom. The door was already ajar and he just shouldered it out of the way. The girl was deposited on the long counter top while he prepared bath water for her in the ancient claw-footed tub. He then rummaged around the cabinets for towels, wondering-not for the first time that night-why he was going through all this trouble for a girl that couldn't properly thank him for it. And by thank, he meant fuck.

Shilo accepted the towel he thrust at her with a soft thank you.

"Yeah, whatever. Just hurry so you I can get some shut-eye." He turned to give her some privacy.

She slid off the countertop and stood with her hands clasped in front of her, twisting her fingers together in the universal gesture of nervousness. "Graverobber?"

"Yeah?" he let his irritation filter into his response.

"Thank you. For everything. You didn't have to do this, and…Well, it means a lot to me." Her eyes were shining with unshed tears, and Graverobber felt a little like an ass, but not enough to let her off the hook.

"I sure as hell didn't, and you'll do well to remember it."

She smiled, sniffling. "I don't think I could ever forget."

"Whatever. Just take your bath before the water gets cold. Is there another shower around here?"

She turned away from him, unzipping her black dress. "Dad's room is at the furthest end of the hall. You can use the shower in there." She looked over her shoulder at him, and the innocence of the gesture combined with the sliver of pale skin revealed by the dress caused a tightening in the Z dealer's pants and he fled with a muttered, "Thanks."

Graverobber braced himself against the shower wall as he let the scalding water pound against his shoulders and back. What was he doing? He shouldn't have gotten himself involved with the kid. She could bring him nothing but trouble. If Amber Sweet found out that he was nursing her greatest threat back to health, she would snuff him out without batting an eye. Well, she could try, but he wouldn't go down without a fight. Still, was it worth the danger? Was one, small girl worth risking his life for?

Unfortunately, he knew the answer. The girl was an innocent. She was pure, untainted by this harsh world. He had the opportunity to preserve that innocence, and he would to the best of his ability.

She'd done nothing to deserve the hand fate had dealt her. She wasn't a Z junkie or a scalpel slut. She was a perfect, delicate child who had been brutally yanked from the only world she had ever known and thrust into one of death and gore.

Her father had poisoned her every day of her life, kept her sequestered away from the outside world. The thought filled him with rage. What kind of father does that to his own child? He was killing her slowly to keep her with him. She was in no way prepared for a life in the outside world.

He sighed, resigned to his self-imposed punishment. He would care for her at least until she knew how to do the basics. When he was sure she could take care of herself, he was out.

He stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his hair and one around his waist. He then rummaged through Nathan Wallace's closet for something to wear until he could clean the repo man's blood from his own clothing. He chose the least offensive of the dead man's shirts and pants. They weren't to his taste at all, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

As he padded down the hall to the kid's bedroom, he heard her humming. It sounded like one of Mag's songs, but he couldn't be certain. The kid had a decent voice. If she played her cards right, perhaps she could be the next Voice of GeneCo.

He pushed the door open and stepped inside, his eyes finding her figure sitting at the open window. She sat, bare headed, brushing her newly washed wig. She was bald. Graverobber's fists clenched at his sides and he made a mental note to find Nathan Wallace's corpse and piss on it.

"Hey, kid. You should get into bed. You're still shocky, and if you sit in the cold too long you'll get sick."

Shilo nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of his voice. He laughed softly

"You sound like my dad," she muttered, carrying her wighead to her vanity table. She arranged it lovingly, caressing the glossy black strands.

Graverobber watched her with a sort of fascination. In her babydoll nightgown, bare headed, she looked even more fragile. He felt that if he breathed too hard around her, she might break.

As if sensing his thoughts, she turned her dark gaze to him. "You can sleep in the bed if you like. I can sleep on the window seat."

"Did your dad drop you on your head when you were a baby? Didn't I just tell you what would happen if you stay near the open window? Especially without your wig."

She averted her eyes, one hand coming up to caress her bald head. Again, Graverobber felt like an asshole. He stood there awkwardly, not knowing exactly what to say to make her feel better after his callous comment.

She broke the silence with her sweet little voice. "Would you stay with me?"

He raised a perfect, dark eyebrow, "I'm here, aren't I?"

"I meant that you could stay…in the bed…with me, if you want."

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his paintless face. "I really don't think that's a good idea."

Shilo nodded. He was probably right. But she really didn't want to be alone. She took a couple of steps toward the bed and her vision went a little fuzzy around the edges. He wrist comm alerted her that her blood pressure was reaching a critical level. And she clutched at her throat.

"Kid?" His voice sounded so far away, but he was looking down at her from a much closer proximity than she would have expected.

"Grave…" her own voice sounded far away. And then, her world went black.

"Kid?" It had all happened so fast. She had been walking toward the bed when her wrist comm thing had started squawking something about blood pressure. For the second time that night, she collapsed at his feet, but this time, she was clutching at her throat, her eyes gone glassy.

"Grave…" her breathy voice trailed off as her eyes rolled up in her head and she began to seize.

"Fuck!" How long had it been since her last dose of 'medicine?' He was so not prepared to deal with the detox she was going through.

He slapped her face gently, "Kid?" He could hear the panicked edge to his voice and gritted his teeth against it. "Kid? I need you to snap out of it." The only response was the jerky movements of her seizure. "Fuck fuck fuck!"

He scooped her into his arms and half ran with her to the bathroom. He'd dealt with enough junkies that he knew what to do when one was going through withdrawal. He strode to the tub, cranking the cold knob to full blast. He allowed the tub to fill halfway before lowered the kid into the icy water.

Her eyes snapped open and she gasped at the shock of the frigid temperature. Her breathing accelerated, coming in short, panting gasps. Her eyes were frantic, searching out Graverobber's concerned blue gaze.

Relief flooded him when her eyes opened and anchored onto his. He cupped her face in his large hands, "Welcome back," he smirked. She began to shake with cold, rather than a seizure. "Let's get you out of there."

She nodded, lifting her arms to him, like a child begging to be picked up. He bent, allowing her to wrap her arms around his neck. He lifted her out of tub and grabbed one of the pristine white towels from the countertop.

"Can you stand?"

She nodded, and he lowered her feet to the floor, wrapping the towel around her. He rubbed her body down vigorously to get her blood circulating again.

He glanced up at her, standing there trembling. Yup. He was totally fucked. H e was definitely a goner. "You scared the shit out of me, kid."

"I'm s-sorry," she forced through her chattering teeth.

He laughed and her brow furrowed. "W-what?"

He stood, hauling her to his chest. "Kid, you're a trip."

"W-why are you l-laughing at m-me?"

He stroked her hair gently, "You're apologizing for something that is completely out of your control."

"I'm glad I seem to amuse you," she muttered tersely, leaning into the warmth of him.

He rolled his eyes. "C'mon, kid. Let's get you out of that wet nightgown and into bed." He ushered her out of the bathroom and left her standing in the middle of her bedroom while he rummaged through her dresser to find something appropriate for her to wear. He wrinkled his nose at the selection. "Do you have anything that doesn't look like it belongs on one of those dolls you've got laying around?"

She shook her head, biting her lip and clutching the towel around her shoulders.

He muttered a curse under his breath. Of course it too much to ask for her to actually have a nightgown that covered her ass. What the fuck was wrong with her father? Who dressed a seventeen year-old girl like a baby doll?

He picked the least offensive scrap of material he could find and thrust it at her. She dropped the towel from her shoulders and he noticed what he hadn't noticed while he was worried about getting her warmed up. Her white, linen nightgown was completely soaked and quite transparent, revealing her pale pink nipples. That she was completely oblivious of the fact made it that much more erotic.

He cleared his throat, tearing his eyes away from her. "You should change. I'll just be over here."

She nodded, and he turned away from her to face the window.

Shilo took the nightgown he offered her and peeled the wet one off, letting it drop to the floor. It took her several tries to get the fresh nightgown on, because her hands were shaking so severely.

Once she had the nightgown on and arranged properly, she padded quietly to Graverobber. She studied him for a moment, taking the opportunity to notice his change of clothes. She knew it should bother her that he had been rifling through her father's belongings, but it didn't bother her at all. She felt he had earned it with all he'd done for her already.

Graverobber gazed out the window at the city below. How could anyone live like this? She had been little more than a bird in a gilded cage, only able to watch the world outside from this window. He hated that he was developing an understanding of the girl—an affection, perhaps.

A light touch at his wrist alerted him that she was finished. He looked down into her fathomless eyes.

"What is happening to me?" she asked, holding up her shaking hands to him.

"You're going through withdrawal from the meds your dad had you on. It's why you had a seizure."

"How long will it last?"

Graverobber shrugged. "You've been on the drugs all your life. It could take days or weeks."

"How do you know all this?"

He looked at her incredulously, "Are you serious, kid? You do remember what I do for a living, right?"

If it was possible, her face went even paler, "So…I'm like one of your customers?"

He grinned crookedly, "You're definitely not like any of my customers, kid."

"But—"

"You didn't choose this for yourself. Your father chose for you. That is the difference between you and my clientele."

The trembling worsened and Shilo tucked her hands into her chest to keep them still, lowering her eyes to the carpet.

He draped an arm over her shoulder. "Come on, kid. To bed with you." He led her to the canopy bed and reach up to rip down the plastic curtain that surrounded it. "Don't think you'll be needing that anymore."

She gasped as he tore the plastic curtain from her canopy. She turned her face up to him, with the most beatific smile, eyes shining with wonder. "Will I be able to go outside?"

Graverobber just stared down at her, momentarily dazzled by her smile. He cleared his throat and lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "I don't know. That depends on whether or not your illness stems completely from the drugs."

"If it is?" She was gazing up at him with the most trusting expression.

He sighed. "I don't know kid. If it's just the drugs, you should be able to do anything you want once they're out of your system. Now will you get into bed?"

She nodded, turning to pull the bedding down. When she bent to reach the far side, her scandalously short nightgown rode up, giving him quite the eyeful.

He hadn't put any thought into the panties he had chosen from the drawer. He'd been more concerned about the length of the nightgown. Now, however, he was seeing them up close and personal. The way they encased her pert little ass was enough to make a grown man cry and Graverobber's pants tighten.

His eyes trailed down the slim, pale legs and he vaguely wondered if they were as smooth as her head. He turned his head. That line of thinking would only get him in trouble.

"Are you sure you don't want the bed?"

She was still leaning over the bed her head turned over her shoulder with the most innocent expression of concern.

Yes! His cock screamed. He really wanted nothing more than to press her into that mattress and take her from behind. He clenched and unclenched his fists at his sides, reminding himself that she was sheltered and completely innocent. He was nearly one-hundred percent certain she'd never had a sexual experience.

When he felt he had regained control, he took a deep breath. "I'm good. The floor is good enough for me. I've certainly had worse."

"Suit yourself," she murmured, crawling up into the bed and burrowed down into the covers.

A shrill scream pierced the darkness and Graverobber was jerked out of a very pleasant wet dream. Being used to skulking around in the shadows, he was able to find his way to the bedside table and get the lamp turned on. The kid was no longer in the bed. It took him a moment to find her wedged into the corner between her wardrobe and piano.

"Kid," he breathed, crouching in front of her.

Her eyes were wide and glazed as she rocked back and forth, making a disturbing keening noise. He reached out to stroke her shoulder and she shrieked like nothing he had ever heard. He gripped her face in both of his hands, trying to force her gaze to his. Her skin was burning hot to the touch—another symptom of withdrawal.

"Kid," he murmured in her ear, not wanting to frighten her more than she already was. "Shilo…"

Pain. A searing, blinding pain was the only thing that registered to her. Every nerve ending in her body was on fire. She'd never felt anything like this before.

Something grabbed her face and it felt like a thousand needles being driven into her flesh and she screamed from the sensation. She heard her name through the red haze of pain and the ringing in her ears. The voice had a familiar, deep timbre, and her sluggish brain tried to process the information. All she could grasp was blue eyes, colorful hair and a glowing blue vial.

She whimpered as he scooped her up, carrying her to the bathroom for the third time that night. He stripped her of her nightgown and she keened lowly.

"I know, kid. I know it hurts," he crooned to her as he lowered her once more into the still half-full tub.

The moment she hit the water, she began to flail and shriek.

"It's okay," he murmured. "It's okay, Shilo." She gasped for breath and tried her damnedest to escape, but he held her down. "Just a bit longer, kid." She clawed at his bare chest, trying desperately to gain some sort of purchase. "We've got to break this fever, kid." She sobbed and struggled and shrieked until she wore herself and sagged against him.

He kept her in the tub until she began to shiver from the cold. Then, he dragged her out, laying her on the rug so he could towel her off. He was tugging her nightgown over her head when her eyes fluttered open and found his.

"Graverobber…" her voice was hoarse from the crying and screaming.

"Yeah, kid?"

"Thank you," she whispered, silent tears leaking from the corners of her eyes.

"Don't mention it, kid." He lifted her into his arms, carrying her to the bedroom. He deposited her in the middle of the large, four-poster and pulled the blankets up to her chin. Then, he climbed in next to her, curling his body around hers. She turned her head, her eyes full of questions. "We need to get you warm and keep your temperature regulated, and I don't fancy waking up to another of your midnight serenades."

She yawned another of her Cindy Loo Who yawns and snuggled back against his chest. "Goodnight, Graverobber."

He reached over her to turn off the lamp and wrapped his arms around her. "Goodnight, kid." Once her breathing evened out, he allowed himself to relax and drift off to sleep. The next few days were going to be rough, and he was going to need all the help he could get.


	2. Chapter 2  Now with proper punctuation!

Title: Chasing Morning - Chapter Two

Author: Robin Graves

Rating: T-MA

Pairing: Graverobber/Shilo

Summary: Shilo quite literally, stumbles upon Graverobber after the night at the Opera. Graverobber takes her home and nurses her back to health, helping her through the inevitable withdrawal from seventeen years of drugs being pumped into her system.

Disclaimer: All Repo! characters and the Repo! world belong to TZ and DB and not me. No profit will be made from this. Please don't sue. I'm already a starving artist.

Shilo drifted slowly up into consciousness. She felt like she'd been hit by a GeneCo truck. Her brain was sluggish, and it took her a moment to realize that the warm weight holding her down was a human body. That was new. In all her life, she'd never woken up with another human being. Maybe it was just this particular man, but it gave her a pleasant feeling. She felt safer and more secure than she ever had under the care of her father.

She toyed with a lock of multi-colored hair that was draped over her shoulder and snuggled back into his chest. She wanted to preserve this feeling for just a moment longer. Unfortunately, her bladder had other ideas. She tried to extract herself from his arms gently, but he tightened them, turning his face into the crook of her neck.

His breath on her neck was doing…interesting things to her body. She was tingling with sensation. She felt things in her insides pull tight like the strings of a violin—things she never knew existed. It was a delightful feeling, but her bladder was insistent that she make a trip to the bathroom.

Shilo began to wriggle against him, trying to find a way out of the warm and comforting prison of his arms.

Graverobber was floating at the very edge of sleep when the kid must have woken. She tried to break his hold on her, but for the first time in his adult life, he was warm and comfortable. Instead of letting her go, he tightened his arms around her, pressing his face into her neck. He was just drifting off again when she began to wriggle against him—the most important part of him—and he was suddenly very awake.

"Kid," he growled softly in her ear, and if she had any hair, she would have had goosebumps. "What the hell are you doing?"

She turned her head, trying to see his eyes, and as she spoke, her lips brushed against his jaw. "I have to go to the bathroom."

His breathing was slightly labored as he lifted his arm from her waist, allowing her to escape him. She was going to kill him with that sheltered innocence shit! He was more turned on than he'd ever been and she hadn't really done anything.

He watched her scoot to the edge of the bed and stand. She swayed and slumped back onto the mattress. He adjusted his package before swinging his legs over his side of the bed and striding quickly around to her side.

A light sheen of sweat had formed on her brow and she looked more pekid than usual. "When was the last time you ate, kid?"

She raised a trembling hand to her head, pressing against her right temple. "I don't know. Yesterday?"

He shook his head. "You're hopeless. Go do your business. Then, we can find something to eat."

She nodded, heading for her closet. He watched her as she passed her hands over several different items before making her selection. His eyes lingered on her slender legs as she reached up to remove the hanger from the bar. She bent to grab a pair of boots from the floor and once again, Graverobber got a flash of that perfect little ass.

When she turned from the closet, he averted his eyes and followed her to the bathroom. On the way, he grabbed her wig off the dresser. "You'll want this," he said, handing her the wig before she shut the door on him.

She murmured a "Thank you," and disappeared behind the heavy, oaken door.

Graverobber took the opportunity to get his head together. What was this kid doing to him? He was responding to her like a horny teenage boy, and he hadn't been one of those in over a decade. She was a sickly, seventeen year-old girl. She was jailbait. Not that it really mattered. She was an orphan. No one was really going to care if they—he squelched that thought firmly. It was completely out of the question. He sat on the end of the bed, scrubbing his hands roughly over his face in frustration.

When the door to the bathroom opened, he was still sitting on the end of the bed with his head in his hands. Her gasp brought him out of himself and he shot up from the bed. She stood in the doorway to the bathroom, with her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide in horror. "What's wrong, kid?"

"What happened to your chest?"

He glanced down and grinned crookedly at the angry red scratches on his chest. "I wish I could say it was from a night of rough, kinky sex." Her eyes widened and she went pink all over. "Let's just say that when you have fever dreams, you don't like being dropped into a tub of cold water."

Her eyes shot up from the scratches, to his face. She took several steps forward until she was standing directly in front of him. One pale, trembling hand came up to stroke over one of the deeper scratches at his shoulders. "I did this to you?" She turned her gaze back up to him and there were tears forming in her eyes. "I'm so sorry."

He shrugged her hand off gently. "Don't worry about it, kid. I've definitely had worse."

"But I _hurt_ you," she whispered.

He laughed at that. "Trust me, kid. This is nothing." He grabbed his shirt from the floor at the foot of the bed and pulled it on before she could put those delicate little hands back on his body.

"C'mon, kid. Let's eat."

Shilo's detox was a long, painful process. It consisted of night terrors, Graverobber force-feeding her, Graverobber sitting with her while she vomited everything she ate, fevers and hallucinations. But eventually, the drugs worked their way out of her system and she began to get her strength back.

Shilo wept when he pointed out that her hair was growing in. He had let her cling to him and cry tears of happiness that, finally, she could be like normal girls.

He'd been surprisingly patient and gentle through the process—well, as gentle as Graverobber ever got. He taught her how to cook, how to do laundry, and he gave her space when she needed it. He'd even taught her some self-defense when a wayward Z addict copped a feel in an alley.

When he had been sure that she could be alone at night, he would go out to replenish his supplies and do a bit of selling before coming back to check on her. He had completely rearranged his life to take care of her, and that was something that she would always be grateful for.

Sometimes, he would take her out with him when he went to harvest Z, allowing her to shadow him. Sometimes, she would watch him in a mix of fascination and horror as he shoved a needle into a corpse's nasal cavity to extract the glowing, blue liquid. Other times, she would catch new insects to add her to already extensive collection.

Sometimes, she stayed home and he didn't come back for days at a time. Shilo didn't expect him to stay with her. She was surprised he came back at all. It's not that she didn't appreciate it when he did. In fact, she'd come to depend on him far more than she really should. A day would come when he didn't come back at all, and she would need to be prepared for that day.

Shilo was sitting at her vanity, stroking her pixie-cut hair. It had grown so much in just under a year. She smiled, turning her head this way and that. It was a rich, dark brown with a reddish cast, much like her mother's if the photos she kept in a worn-out scrapbook were any indication. With her large, dark eyes and pale skin, she looked like one of the characters in the Japanese cartoons that sometimes came on late at night.

Hair wasn't the only thing she'd grown since being off her meds. She glared down at her chest. Now, she had breasts. For the life of her, she couldn't figure out what all the fuss was about. They got in the way and they _hurt_! Running from the GenCops was getting increasingly more painful.

Graverobber had joked saying that if they kept growing, some day she'd be a real girl. She was getting used to his sense of humor. They spent nearly every night together, unless he was hiding himself away from the GenCops. She'd tried to convince him that he didn't need to push Zydrate anymore, but he would have none of it—something about leopards and spots, he'd said.

She sighed, looking into the mirror. Tonight was her birthday. She hadn't seen him in a couple of days, and she missed him. She always missed him, but tonight was worse. It was her first birthday without her father, and being in the old house, alone, made the melancholy that much worse.

She sighed again, laying her head on her folded arms. "Happy Birthday," she muttered.

"Doesn't sound so happy to me."

Her head shot up and she met his amused gaze in the vanity mirror. "You're back!"

He scoffed, "Did you think I would miss your birthday?"

"I didn't think you knew when it was."

He crossed his arms over his broad chest. "I wouldn't have if I hadn't done some investigation into the matter myself." She looked at him quizzically and he grinned, "I found the records your dad kept while I was looking through his desk."

"I'm glad you're here," she murmured, going to meet him in the center of the room. She wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head against his shoulder.

"Damn, kid, you're getting tall. I guess whatever your dad was force-feeding you stunted everything."

"Shut up," she mumbled. "It's not nice to tease the birthday girl."

"Not true, kid. Sometimes it is _very_ nice to tease the birthday girl."

"I'm officially an adult today," she sniffed.

"Nah. You've still got some life experience to rack up before you're considered an adult, kid."

She shoved him away from her. "I think I have all the life experience I could ever want, thank you very much."

He gave her his sinister, panty-dropping grin, advancing on her. "Trust me when I tell you that there are definitely some life experiences you would enjoy." He trailed his index finger along the neckline of her mock-corset.

She tilted her chin defiantly, leveling him with a challenging gaze. "Are you volunteering?"

His eyes widened minutely, but he recovered quickly. He definitely hadn't expected that. He traced his fingers over her delicate jaw, "Kid, you couldn't handle me."

She leaned into him, eyes smoldering. "_Adult_," she mocked, "I have eighteen years of sexual repression under my belt. I think it's _you_ who couldn't handle _me_," she whispered, licking up his neck from collarbone to ear.

"Jesus Hopscotching Christ, kid!" he gasped, the playful game grinding to a halt with her action.

She pulled back, giggling.

"Oh, so you think that's funny?" he growled.

She nodded, smiling shyly. Fuck, but she was the cutest thing he'd ever seen.

"Where the hell did you learn that?"

She shrugged, "I can't sleep when you're gone, so I watch a lot of TV."

He rubbed a hand over his face. "You can't do shit like that, kid."

"Why?" She grinned

"Because, if you do, I will not be held accountable for my actions."

She tilted her head to the side, looking up at him with those large, expressive eyes, "Promise?"

He just stared at her for a moment, completely flummoxed. "I don't even know how to respond to you right now."

"You could throw me down on the bed and ravish me. How often do you have eighteen year-old virgins throwing themselves at you?" she joked.

"More often than you'd think, kid.

Her expression sobered and she stood tall, dropping all pretense of Shilo, the Seductress. Suddenly, her midnight blue toenails were the most interesting things in the world.

He noticed the change and sighed. "Come on, kid, don't you want to see what I got you for your birthday."

She hugged her arms around her belly. "You didn't have to get me anything. Dad left me plenty of money. Anything I need, I can provide for myself."

He brushed the backs of his knuckles against her cheek, "Don't be that way." He took her hand, leading her to the box he'd set down on the bed before meeting her at the vanity. There were holes poked in the tops and sides of the box, and Shilo just stared at it. Graverobber nudged her with his elbow. "Open it," he whispered in her ear.

She removed the lid of the box and gasped in surprise. Inside, was the tiniest kitten she'd ever seen. It was solid black and standing on shaky, spindly legs. It stared up at her with large, gray-blue eyes and let out the most pitiful mewling sound she'd ever heard.

Immediately, she scooped it up, cradling it to her chest. She'd never been allowed to have pets. No hamsters, rats, reptiles, nothing. The only time she'd ever seen an animal had been on TV, until she'd met Graverobber. Then again, the rats that dwelled in the darkened alleys didn't really count as wildlife.

"His eyes haven't changed yet, so he's still pretty young," Graverobber explained.

She turned her gaze to him, absently stroking the kitten's neck. "Where did you find him?"

"Found him stranded in a back alley. Looks like his mama moved the rest and didn't make it back to get him." Graverobber wouldn't tell her that the kitten's mother had been dead along with its brothers and sisters when he had heard it mewling pathetically in the alley. He saw no need to share with her the horrible truth of the kitten's existence which he was all too aware, was far too close to her own.

"Poor thing," she murmured, nuzzling her cheek against his tiny little head.

"That's life, kid. He's lucky I found him." Graverobber shoved his hands in his pockets, studying the kitten with interest, "What will you name him?"

"Poe."

He raised an eyebrow in question, "Poe?"

"Edgar Allen Poe. He was a nineteenth century poet. One of the best. Very dark."

"Sounds like a perfect fit, then." She buried her face in Poe's fur, and Graverobber heard her sniffle. "Hey," he whispered, "Don't you like him?"

"I love him, Graverobber." Her voice was husky with emotion. "He's perfect."

He wrapped an arm around her thin shoulders, pulling her into his chest. "Why are you crying?"

"I've never had a pet before. Dad said it was too risky."

"That's not true. You've kept me around for a year."

She giggled. "That doesn't count."

He smiled against her hair, breathing in the scent of her. He'd taken a chance on her being a cat person. He'd never considered that she might have never had a pet before.

She stepped back from him, looking up into his eyes. "Thank you, Graverobber." She stood on tiptoe and pressed a kiss against his cheek. "He's the best birthday present I've ever had." She turned away from him, pacing around to her side of the bed and placing Poe in the center of the comforter before changing into her pajamas. Lately, she'd taken to wearing boyshorts and camisoles instead of her evil little nightgowns. He didn't know which was worse.

When she was changed, she climbed into bed and wriggled under the comforter. Poe was scooped up and placed on her chest on top of the comforter. _Oh, to be a tiny black kitten_, Graverobber mused.

He watched her every move. She was tender and loving with the kitten. Graverobber had seen him and knew the tiny black ball of fuzz would be perfect for her. Shilo needed something she could care for that would love her unconditionally—a companion, something that wouldn't betray her.

He watched her for what seemed like eons before she found him with her soulful gaze. "Are you coming to bed?"

He snapped out of his reverie and began shedding his clothing. He slipped on a pair of her father's pajama pants and slid into bed next to her. She immediately turned onto her right side. He smiled. _Assuming the position._ They always slept with him spooning around her, his arm draped over her waist, holding her securely.

"Happy Birthday, kid," he murmured in her ear.

"Thank you," she whispered, snuggling back against his chest.


	3. Chapter 3 Now with proper punctuation!

Title: Chasing Morning - Chapter Three

Author: Robin Graves

Rating: T-MA

Pairing: Graverobber/Shilo

Summary: Shilo quite literally, stumbles upon Graverobber after the night at the Opera. Graverobber takes her home and nurses her back to health, helping her through the inevitable withdrawal from seventeen years of drugs being pumped into her system.

Disclaimer: All Repo! characters and the Repo! world belong to TZ and DB and not me. No profit will be made from this. Please don't sue. I'm already a starving artist.

Graverobber woke to a faint buzzing in his ear. He blinked a couple of times, and slid his gaze to his left. Ah, Poe. That would explain the buzzing sound in his ear. During the night, the kitten had wedged himself between Graverobber and Shilo and was currently pressed quite snugly in the crook of Graverobber's neck. He smiled softly and nestled his face back into the crook of Shilo's neck, allowing himself to slip back into the dark abyss of sleep.

"C'mon, kid. Get your shit together! We've got to get a move on." Graverobber was pacing back and forth in front of the bed in their bedroom. He had taken her robbing with him a few times, but tonight, he was going to teach her how to extract Zydrate. Poe was pacing with him, back and forth to each end of the foot of the bed.

The door to the bathroom opened, and Shilo stepped out, hands on her slim hips, "Someone's impatient this evening." Her hair was damp and spiky and her clothes were dark and skintight. Her chunky black boots were laced over the top of fitted black, leather pants and her black corset top fit her snugly.

Her attire was both a blessing and a hindrance. It was a blessing, because the fitted clothing would make escaping the GenCops easier. There was no loose fabric to catch on anything. It was a hindrance, because how the fuck was he supposed to teach her how to extract Zydrate when he was staring at her sweet little ass in those pants?

"Just grab your shit and let's go. We've got a lot of ground to cover tonight," he grumbled.

She rolled her eyes, "Always so grouchy," she muttered, snatching her messenger bag from beside her vanity.

Of course he was grouchy! He was in a perpetual state of arousal due to her wardrobe choices! What man wouldn't be grouchy?

As she passed the bed, she scooped Poe up, showering the tiny kitten with kisses. "Mommy will be home later. Be good." She placed him on her pillow, upon which he immediately curled up for a nap.

It was Graverobber's turn to roll his eyes. He grabbed her wrist, pulling her toward the door. "Come _on_, kid!"

She giggled as he dragged her into the hall and down the stairs, completely oblivious to his inner turmoil. And yes, he realized how fucking pussy-whipped he sounded, but he'd long since given up trying to fight it. It was best to just keep it in his pants and get his rocks off with the scalpel sluts that couldn't afford a hit.

They took the secret passage from the house to her mother's grave. Since Rotti Largo's death, it was faster and safer than using the alleys and back streets. They crept through the tunnel, quiet as mice, and emerged in the small mausoleum dedicated to Marni Wallace. Shilo dropped something onto the headstone before following Graverobber out into the cemetery. It had become a ritual. Once a month, she would lay a single, red rose on her mother's grave to honor her parents.

Once out of the tomb, they kept low, weaving in and out of the monuments and headstones. Graverobber reached back, grabbing her hand to lead her toward the entrance. "We're going to one of the cemeteries across the way. It's rumored that there is a mass grave in Trimble."

"Gross," she muttered.

"You didn't have to come."

"You're the one who wanted me here," she pointed out.

"If I thought you were going to be a little girl about it, I wouldn't have asked you."

She stopped in her tracks, forcing him to stop with her. He turned toward her, closing the distance between them quickly. "What?" he hissed.

Her eyes narrowed and she stomped on his foot. Graverobber grit his teeth, growling low in the back of his throat. "Do you want to get us caught, kid? You know what they do to grave-robbers, right? Execution on sight."

"Yeah, I know!" she snapped quietly. "I was almost executed, if you'll remember correctly, while you ran like a little bitch."

His eyes narrowed and he clenched his jaw. "Go. The. Fuck. Home."

"No." she hissed.

"Then shut the fuck up and do what I tell you to do."

"Stop treating me like a kid."

"Stop acting like one, and I will. If you're coming with me, move your ass. If you're not, get back into the tunnel." He whirled around, heading for the gate.

"Dick," she muttered.

He turned around with an incredulous expression, "What?

"I called you a dick," she said slowly, as if he were mentally challenged.

He marched back to her, grabbing her bicep, pulling her into him. "Kid, you are really trying my patience," he ground out. "I'm not your daddy. The rebellious teenager shit is going to stop. I have a job to do. Either you are going to help me, or you are going home. I'm not getting a bullet in my brain because you decided to throw a temper tantrum."

She wrapped his hair around her fist, pulling him down to her level. "Then teach me how to do my job and quit acting like an overbearing older brother."

Graverobber didn't know whether to hit her, or fuck her. He was beyond pissed, but he was so aroused that his pants were becoming uncomfortable. Her father's drugs must have stunted more than just her growth. Why did the years of repressed teenage angst have to rear their ugly heads at this very moment?

Shilo watched the internal battle wage behind Graverobber's closed eyes. She knew it wasn't the best time to pick a fight, but she was tired of being treated like a child. She also knew that there was a good chance he would send her home and not come back for a few days.

When he opened his eyes again, they were a smoldering, smoky blue. "I should send your ass packing, but I'm taking a chance on you. If you come with me, are you going to keep your trap shut?"

She nodded, afraid she would say something to make him angrier.

"Will you do exactly as I tell you?"

"Will you stop with the cheap shots?" she shot back.

He glared at her, nodding tersely.

"Then, yes, I will do exactly as you tell me."

Graverobber rolled his eyes. "Let go of my hair."

"If it weren't so girly—"

"If you finish that sentence I will tie you to a headstone and call the GenCops myself."

She un-wrapped his hair from her hand and strutted around him, nose in the air. She opened the gate as if the whole outing was her idea. "Are you coming?" she threw back over her shoulder.

"I will be later," he muttered under his breath.

"What was that?"

"I said, 'Yes, I am.'" He followed her out the gate, grumbling under his breath about little girls getting too big for their britches.

"Like this?" Shilo asked as she jabbed the needle into the nasal cavity of the corpse.

Was it wrong that the sight of her stabbing a corpse in the brain was giving him a hellacious erection?

"Almost," he murmured in her ear, wrapping his hand around hers. "You've got to smack it a little to get it in all the way." He tapped the heel of his hand against her hand that was holding the collection needle. "Feel the difference?"

She looked over her shoulder at him, nodding. "And then I press the bottom of the syringe to release it and start the flow?"

He nodded, watching the electric blue liquid flood the vial. "Good job, kid." He ruffled her hair.

She sighed, rolling her eyes. There was really no way she was ever going to get him to treat her like an adult. She decided she would take what she could get when it came to him.

He handed her a pack of syringes and collection vials, a kit much like his own. "You're ready kid. Let's split up. I'll take the north end. You stay here."

She looked up at him with wide eyes. "What if the GenCops find us?"

He wrapped an arm around her neck, pulling her into his chest. "You trust me, right, kid?" She nodded against his chest. "Then trust me not to get you caught."

"You didn't do such a great job of that last time."

"You mean a lot more to me this time, kid." He murmured against her hair.

"Okay," she whispered, smiling into his chest.

"We'll be okay, kid. I promise."

She gave him a watery smile. "Let's do this."

"That was amazing," she exclaimed breathlessly.

"We almost get caught by the GenCops and you think it's amazing?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes!" she exclaimed, leaping onto his back.

He chuckled darkly, "You, my dear, are experiencing an adrenaline rush for the first time."

She giggled, wrapping her legs around his waist, clinging to him like a living backpack. "I never knew I could feel like this. I feel so…free." She rested her head on his shoulder. "Graverobber, for the first time in my life, I feel free." She pressed her face into his neck. "And you gave me that."

"You did a great job, kid. We made a good haul. Now, we need to get you home."

"Can I go selling with you?"

"Absolutely not."

"Why not?

"It's too dangerous."

"Come oooonnnn!" she whined. "I won't get in the way. I'll be good. I promise!"

"No."

"Pleeeeaaaasssse?"

"If I let you come along, will you shut up?"

"Yes!"

"I honestly doubt that, but we can give it a try."

"I'll be as quiet as a mouse," she whispered against his ear.

He fought the shiver that her warm breath on his ear produced. "Fine. Get down and let's go. But you're not touching the Z. And you're not handling the money. No one's going to know you're with me."

"Okay," she whispered, smiling against his neck. She slid down his back, adjusting her collection kit across her right shoulder to rest at her left hip.

He looked her up and down. "We're making a stop first."

She looked up at him questioningly. "A stop?"

"A stop."

"Where are we stopping?"

"Lilith's."

"Who's Lilith?"

"You'll see."

Shilo stared at the red lacquered door with a small amount of trepidation.

"Chill out, kid. Lilith is cool. You'll like her."

She didn't have time to respond before the door was flung open and she came face to chest with Lilith herself. The woman in question leaned against the doorframe.

"Well, if it isn't our neighborhood friendly Graverobber. What brings you to Lilith's?" she asked in a husky purr.

"Hey, Lil. This is The Kid. Kid this is Lilith."

The much larger woman offered Shilo a perfectly manicured (if somewhat gargantuan) hand. Shilo accepted, grasping it firmly. The blonde grinned. "Firm hand shake." Her gaze slid to Graverobber. "I like her. Most people are too afraid of me."

Graverobber grinned his patented panty-dropping grin, "Nah, Lil. They're just too intimidated by your beauty."

"You're so full of shit. I'm surprised your eyes aren't brown," Lilith replied, rolling her baby blue eyes. "Now what do you want?"

Shilo giggled behind her hand and Graverobber glared at her.

"She wanted to come selling with me, but there's no way in hell I'm letting her do that." He shot a glare at Shilo when she punched his shoulder. "I thought you could keep her out of trouble for me and" he gestured at her ensemble, "fit her for attire more appropriate for a kid her age."

"I'm an adult," she pouted sullenly, and Lilith laughed.

Lilith grinned wickedly, holding her hand out palm up. "Come into to my parlor, said the spider to the fly."

Shilo placed her hand in Lilith's, glancing over shoulder to catch Graverobber's eye before he disappeared behind Lilith's hulking frame.

"Don't worry, kid. You're in good hands."

"Go to work!" she snapped. His deep chuckled reached her as Lilith shut the door behind her.

Shilo sighed, "He is such an ass."

Lilith laughed, "That definitely describes him.

Shilo turned to face Lilith. "My name is Shilo, by the way."

"Well, Shilo. He wants you to have a new wardrobe, so let's get to it." She headed towards a small room off the east side of the parlor.

"I don't see what's wrong with what I have," Shilo muttered petulantly.

Lilith turned back to the girl who was standing with her arms crossed over her chest, the most adorable scowl on her face. Looking her up and down, Lil had an idea of why he might want her to change her wardrobe. Graverobber had a thing for this adorable young woman and he wanted to make sure she stayed an adorable young _girl_ in the eyes of other potential suitors. She smiled, taking Shilo's tiny hand in her own. "Come on, peanut. Let's play dress up."

Lilith led Shilo to a room full of clothing, fabrics and wigs. Shilo looked around in awe. "Where did you get all of this?"

"I made most of it."

Shilo's head snapped around, staring up at her incredulously. "You made all of this?"

Lilith grinned, "Peanut, with a body like this, it's not like I had much choice.

It was true, she was huge! Graverobber was six feet tall easy and Lilith had a few inches on him. She wasn't unattractive. She had strong features—plump lips, straight nose, strong jaw. She moved with a practiced grace as she browsed the racks of clothing. Lilith caught her staring and Shilo ducked her head, blushing.

"It's okay, peanut. People tend to stare."

"I've never seen anyone like you, before," she murmured shyly.

The older woman brushed a lock of hair from Shilo's eye. "I don't suspect you have, peanut."

Shilo grasped one of her hands in both of hers. "You have square palms," she noted, tracing one finger down the center of her palm. She looked up at Lilith, searching her face. "Women have rounded palms."

Lilith smiled, "You're an observant one, aren't you?"

Shilo blushed, ducking her head. "My dad had lots of medical textbooks and not much else. Like I said, I don't get out much. You do make a beautiful woman, though."

Lilith draped an arm over her narrow shoulders. "Thank you, peanut. Oo!" She reached across Shilo to pick up a crayola red wig off of it's wighead. She held it out to the girl. "This will look fantastic on you."

Shilo smiled, taking the wig from her. Now that she didn't need to wear a wig every day, she saw it as a rare treat. She slipped it over her short, mahogany hair, turning to face Lilith. "How do I look?"

"Like the most adorable pixie I've ever seen."

Shilo grinned. At least she hadn't said anything about her being a "kid." She scowled, thinking about Graverobber and his refusal to see her as anything but a kid.

Lilith chuckled. "Don't let him ruin our girl time."

Shilo's eyebrows disappeared beneath the red wig. "I wasn't."

"Peanut, I know when a girl is thinking about the guy she's crazy about."

"I'm not crazy about him. He just _drives_ me crazy," she muttered

Lilith laughed. "Fair enough." She turned to thumb through the racks of clothing. "Now, let's get you outfitted in a more grown-up wardrobe."

Shilo fingered a confection of delicate lace and satin. "Lilith, can I commission something from you?"

Lilith eyed the corset she was admiring. "Will this get me in trouble with our dear Graverobber?"

Shilo shook her head. "I want to get him a birthday present."

Lilith raised her eyebrow. "I don't think he would appreciate the value of a corset."

Shilo giggled. "I don't want you to make him a corset." She considered the rigid contraption. "Though, I might be interested in having one for myself. It might take me a while to be able to pay you, though."

Lil draped an arm over her shoulders. "I think I have a way you can pay me."


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Chasing Morning - Chapter Three (part 2)

Author: Robin Graves

Rating: T-MA

Pairing: Graverobber/Shilo

Summary: Shilo quite literally, stumbles upon Graverobber after the night at the Opera. Graverobber takes her home and nurses her back to health, helping her through the inevitable withdrawal from seventeen years of drugs being pumped into her system.

Disclaimer: All Repo! characters and the Repo! world belong to TZ and DB and not me. No profit will be made from this. Please don't sue. I'm already a starving artist.

AN: This was all supposed to be one chapter, but stupid LJ thinks 17 pages is too much for one post!

"Hey, Snow White!" a young kid with black and red spiked hair crowed to her.

She smiled softly at him. "Hey, Dougie."

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his studded pants. "You here to see Robber?"

She shook her head shyly. "I came by to see Lil. Is she around?"

Dougie gave her a lopsided smile. "Yeah. I'll take you to her." He offered her his arm, and she slipped a hand into the crook of his elbow.

"Why do you hang out in a place like this? You're so much better than this. Better than him," he added as an afterthought.

Graverobber sidled around the corner, whistling a merry little tune. He stopped in his tracks as one of the Z addicts manhandled The Kid and proceeded to slander Graverobber himself. Who was he kidding? Hedgehog boy had a point. What was she doing here, a creature of the light dwelling in the shadows?

Seeing her with the boy struck a dissonant chord in Graverobber. She was so young. At eighteen, she had the whole world at her feet. If anyone could change the world, it was her. So why did she stay with him? It was a gift he certainly didn't deserve, but he would hold onto it for as long as he could.

He pasted on a grin and strutted up to the pair, draping an arm over Shilo's shoulders, ruffling her pixie-cut hair. She turned her face up to him, a smile lighting her feature.

"Hey, you," she murmured.

"Hey, kid." His gaze slid to the boy. "Glad to see you're making friends."

Dougie met his gaze defiantly. The moment the drug dealer showed up, Shilo's entire being lit up, and Dougie knew he didn't stand a chance. "Yeah, well I guess I'll be going."

"Have a good show tonight, Dougie," Shilo chirped.

Dougie smiled softly at her. "Thanks, Snow White." He raised her hand to his lips, brushing her knuckles with his lips. "Take care of yourself."

She smiled that heartbreaking smile. "Bye, Dougie."

"Toodaloo!" Graverobber sang, wiggling his fingers.

Shilo shook her head, rolling her eyes. "I'm here to see Lil. Come on." She grabbed his hand, dragging him along behind her.

"What are you seeing Lil for?"

She looked over her shoulder, raking him from head to toe with mischievous eyes. You'll see."

"Why do I get the feeling I'm in trouble?"

"It's a surprise. C'mon!" She led him down the alley to the shack with the bright red door.

"If I keep letting you lead me around like this, I'm going to lose my street cred."

"Nah, they'll just think you're nailing a hot, young piece of ass."

He stopped in his tracks. "Where did you learn to talk like that?"

She turned to him, rising up on her tiptoes. "I learned from the best, Robber," she cooed into his ear.

He grabbed her ass, pulling her roughly against him, so she could feel the effect her words had on him. "I think I just came a little," he growled at her ear.

She blushed fiercely at that, and he stroked her cheek. "Now, there's my sweet girl."

She smacked his hand away, muttering something about being an adult. He chuckled and trailed after her when she whirled around, striding purposely up the dodgy porch of Lil's humble abode.

She rapped sharply on the lacquered door. Moments later, it was thrown open by the freakishly tall blonde.

"Peanut!" she squealed, pulling the tiny girl into her well-muscled arms. "I suppose you're here for your commissions?" She slid her sly blue gaze to Graverobber. "And you brought your keeper, I see." She dropped a kiss against his cheek.

"Hey, Lil."

The 6'4" blonde stepped aside to let them in. "Get in here, you two." She led them into the parlor. She gestured to two boxes on a sanguine velvet chaise. "There you are. You haven't changed your mind about the show, have you?" She pouted prettily.

Shilo smiled. "I told you I would do it, and I will. I don't break my promises, Lil." She had developed quite a fondness for Lilith. She was kind hearted, but a shrewd business woman. She had agreed to do the two commissions for Shilo on the condition that Shilo was her featured model in Lilith's debut fashion show.

Graverobber's eyes narrowed. "What show?"

"Lil's fashion show," Shilo chirped.

"Have you both lost your fuckin' minds?" He whirled on Lil. "What the hell are you thinking, Lil?" His voice dropped to a low growl. "Do you know what will happen if the Largos find out?"

Shilo bristled. "Thanks, _dad_, but I'm not afraid of the Largos. I'm a big girl."

"I may not be your father, but I know how the Largos work. They'll know. Are you _trying_ to get yourself killed?"

"Graverobber, you need to calm down." Lilith murmured in her soothing contralto voice. "We've thought about this. There's a game plan."

"You're both insane!" he spat, storming out of the shack. The door slammed behind him, causing Shilo to jump.

Lilith heard the sniffles and wrapped her in a comforting embrace. "Don't cry, peanut," she cooed. "He's only angry because he cares about your safety."

Shilo snorted wetly. "He only cares about protecting his investment."

Lilith stroked a large, well manicured hand over the girl's cheek. "You have so much to learn about life…and men." She smiled softly, brushing the tears from Shilo's cheeks. "You'd better go after him. I wouldn't want him to terrorize poor Dougie."

"What does Dougie—"

"Just go!" Lilith turned Shilo toward the door, swatting her fondly on the butt. Shilo paused only to grab her packages and for Lilith to open the door for her.

"Thanks, Lil," she murmured, pressing a kiss to the big woman's cheek.

Lil stroke a hand over her hair. "Peanut, for you I would have kept my twig-n-berries." She laughed at the befuddled expression on the girl's face. "Now go find your Graverobber."

Shilo headed in the direction she and Graverobber usually took back to the house, but he was nowhere to be seen. She picked up her pace, worried to be out alone at night without him.

Dougie called to her from the backdoor of the seedy bar where his band played. She nodded her head in his direction, offering him a distracted smile. He put his cigarette back to his lips, smiling as he watched her head home.

Shilo rounded the corner, nearly tripping over a kneeling figure. Her eyes trailed up and widened on the sight before her. The mystery of the missing Graverobber was solved. He was leaning against the brick wall of the alley, with his hands tangled in a woman's hair while her head bobbed up and down on his crotch. He rolled his head to grin lecherously at Shilo, and she felt ill. His hand tightened in the woman's hair and his neck arched backward, though his gaze never left Shilo's.

He pushed the faceless woman away, buckling his belt and zipping himself back up. "Hey, kid. Fancy seeing you here," he sneered.

Something in Shilo snapped. She threw the larger of the two boxes she was holding at his head, causing the scalpel slut to duck and cover. The box missed by a fraction of an inch and fell to the filthy pavement, its contents spilling out. She whirled, striding away as quickly as she could without running. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her flee from him.

Graverobber watched her with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He had known she would take this way home. It was the safest and fastest way to the house. He had also known that it would hurt her to witness his cruel little act of revenge. At the time, he hadn't cared. It wasn't until he let go into the scalpel slut's mouth and watched the girl's heartbreak projected clearly from those fucking doe eyes—eyes that had not yet learned to guard their secrets—that he felt the twinge of remorse.

He lowered his eyes to the box at his feet and wished he hadn't. It was a coat much like the one he was wearing; only this one was made of soft leather. The collar was thick, black sable. The kid had done the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him and he'd taken a giant shit on it. He let his head fall back against the rough brick of the wall. He didn't know why he'd done what he'd done. He only knew that he had to make it right between them.

By the time he'd collected himself, the scalpel slut had scampered away. It was for the best. The way he was feeling, he was capable of anything.

When he got to the gate, it was locked. Shit. His gut twisted. She was shutting him out. Well, he wasn't going down without a fight. He didn't bother with the intercom. If she'd locked him out, she sure as hell wouldn't answer him. She was a teenage girl, after all.

Scaling the fence seemed to be his only option, so he sucked it up and began to climb. Years of robbing graves and breaking and entering made him quick and nimble. One fence was not a challenge. He was up and over with very little effort.

A tug on the front door let him know she was serious. That left her bedroom window. Now _that_ would be a challenge. The drainpipe wouldn't hold his weight, and the handholds on the house's façade were few and far between. Luckily, there was wrought iron trim along the side her window was on. He used it to scale the outer wall of the house to her bedroom window.

Apparently, she hadn't expected him to be up to the climb, because her window was wide open. When he pulled himself up and over the sill, his breath caught in his throat. Shilo had her back to him, wearing nothing but a black thong. When had she started wearing those?

His foot caught the sill and he went tumbling into the room. Shilo shrieked and whirled around, clutching a nightgown to her chest. Her eyes were wide and bright with tears before they narrowed into cold, dark slits.

"You locked the gate and the front door." He tried to sound nonchalant as he brushed himself off.

"I thought it might get the point across that you weren't welcome. Apparently, you're not as intelligent as I gave you credit for."

"No. I got the message. I just don't give a shit."

"Get out!" she spat.

"No."

"_Get out!_" she shrieked.

"Listen to me, kid." He clutched the duster in one fist. "This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me—the only nice thing anyone has ever done for me."

"The scalpel slut in the alley seemed to be doing something very nice for you," she sneered.

"Fuck, kid. That didn't mean anything."

Shilo exploded. "Stop calling me, 'kid!' I'm eighteen years old! I'm not a child anymore!" She threw her nightgown down and stomped a dainty little foot.

Graverobber could only stare. He'd never seen her completely nude. Her breasts were small and firm to match her perky little ass.

"What do I have to do to make you see that? Should I dress like them? Act like the girl in the alley?" He chest was heaving, flushed pink with her exertion of her tirade.

The part of himself that Graverobber had kept tightly in check broke free and he stalked toward her. "Is that what you want?" he growled. "To be used and forgotten? To whore yourself for the next hit of the glow?" he seethed. He couldn't remember being this angry.

He was so close now that Shilo could feel the heat radiating from his body.

"No," she whispered honestly, gazing up at him with sad eyes. "I just want you to see me." The admission was painful and ended in a chocked whisper. She looked away from him, tears welling in her dark, soulful eyes.

Graverobber's anger dissolved instantly. She retreated within herself, and he made a decision. He caressed one pale, perfect cheek with the back of his hand. "I see you, Shilo," he rumbled.

Her eyes darted up to check his expression. It was soft, tender, with the threat of something darker under the surface. She closed the distance between them, resting her head against his chest. His arms encircled her, one hand trailing up and down the smooth expanse of her back.

"Thank you for the coat."

"Happy birthday," she murmured.

His brow furrowed and he craned his neck to see her. "It's not my birthday, Shilo."

His use of her name sent a thrill through her. "I didn't know when your birthday was. I tried to find someone who knew, but on one could tell me. So, I decided to make today your birthday. You've been here for almost a year and we haven't celebrated your birthday yet. Birthdays should be celebrated," she mumbled. "I want you to know that I'm happy you were born.

Well fuck. Didn't he feel like Douchebag of the Year? His arms tightened around her and he buried his head against her shoulder. "Thanks."

"Do you like it?" she asked his chest."

"It's fuckawesome, Shilo."

She giggled. They stood there for a moment in comfortable silence.

"You're naked, Shilo. You should put on a nightgown."

"I have on panties," she offered.

"No. That is butt-floss. When did you start wearing thongs?"

She looked up at him with an impish expression. "Today."

The implication didn't escape him and Graverobber smirked. "You wore a thong for me?"

"No. I wore it for Dougie," she said nonchalantly. Graverobber's eyes narrowed dangerously and she giggled. "I'm kidding, Robber."

He caressed both hands down her back to cup her ass. "Someone's being naughty," he growled in her ear. "And naughty girls get spankings." He smacked one perfect cheek.

Shilo gasped at the contact. It shot a pulse of electricity straight to her core and she writhed against him.

Holy. Fuck. She liked to be spanked. And that was Graverobber's breaking point. He grabbed her chin in one large hand, forcing her face up to his. The other hand moved to the small of her back and pressed her to him tightly. "I think you need to learn who you belong to, little girl," he growled.

She shook her head slowly. "I've always belonged to you. From that first moment in the graveyard, I've been only yours."

That was all the encouragement he needed. He lowered his mouth to hers, cupping the back of her head with one hand, the other tracing the line of her jaw. She twined her arms around his neck, pressing herself flush against him. Her mouth parted on a sigh and he thrust his tongue into her mouth. He groaned at the taste of her—clean. Pure. Not contaminated with the foul taste of Zydrate. His hand at the small of her back was kneading the smooth, soft flesh there. She sank her fingers into his hair, tugging slightly.

He tore his mouth away from hers. "Fuck!" he exclaimed breathlessly.

Shilo's eyes widened and she tried to pull away. "I'm sorry! Was that wrong? I didn't mean—"

"Shut up," he muttered.

She blinked in confusion, causing Graverobber to laugh. He grasped the back of her neck. "It was exactly the right thing to do."

"Then why—"

"Didn't I tell you to shut up?" He used his grip on the back of her neck to pull her to him. "I'm going to kiss you again," he rumbled, eyeing her plump, kiss-bruised lips. He swiped his tongue across her bottom lip before taking it between his teeth.

Shilo whimpered, tugging on his hair. He groaned, gripping her hips and pressing her as tight against him as he could. "You're trying to kill me," he panted against her lips.

She shook her head slightly, giving him those mischievous eyes. "No. You're more valuable to me alive." She nipped just below his jaw-line with a slow scrape of her teeth. The sharp sound of his inhalation made her smile against his neck.

He pulled away from her, staring wide-eyed. "Am I going to have to use the parental controls on what you're watching at night?"

Shilo smirked at him, "You liked it."

He grinned lopsidedly, "Yeah, I did."

She grabbed him by the belt, tugging him to her. She rubbed her face against his neck much like Poe did when he was held. "Do you want me to show you what else I've learned?" she murmured into his neck. Her hand slipped down the front of his pants, grasping him firmly in her tiny hand.

Graverobber hissed, pulling back from her as if he'd been burned. "What are you doing?"

Her eyebrows pulled together in confusion. "I thought—"

"Kid, I—"

"So, we're back to that." She shook her head.

"Shilo—"

"It's fine." She bent to pick up her nightgown.

He watched her turn her back on him, crouching to gather her discarded nightgown. She pulled it over her head and padded toward the bed. Poe looked up at her, offering a squeak of greeting. She scooped him up and moved to the door. She paused, just before disappearing out the door. "You can stay in here tonight."

"Where are you sleeping?"

She ignored him, shutting the door behind her. What the fuck? Things had been progressing pretty fucking well. She'd been practically naked in his arms with her hand down his pants. He'd tried to slow things down, and she'd completely closed herself off to him. He sank onto the bed, head in his hands. Why, oh, why had he volunteered to become the guardian of an hormonal teenage girl?


End file.
